Storm's Cage by Mary Stone (uplifting novels .TXT) 📕

vowed to only reach out to her for help as an absolute last resort.

Now, just a few days later, here he was. Standing beneath god only knew how many tons of concrete as Amelia’s scrutinizing gaze fell over him.

He’d tried to come up with a solution to take care of the bogus charges against Gabriel Badoni. He’d reached out to other homicide detectives who were friendly to the D’Amato family, including a man in the precinct nearest to Ian Strausbaugh’s, but none of them were capable of intervening on his behalf.

Though he still didn’t have the first clue how Amelia could reach further than anyone else he’d contacted, she was his last resort. Just as he’d promised himself.

“Evening, Alex.” Her clipped tone pulled him back to reality.

Clenching his jaw, he met her gaze.

To his surprise, dark circles lingered beneath her forest-green eyes. Any time he’d met with Amelia over the last few months, she’d appeared sharp and well-rested. Though the keen edge remained in her expression, he wondered how much she’d slept over the last week. “Hey. You look…tired.”

“I am.” She tightened her knit cardigan and fiddled with the bottom button. “So, let’s make this quick. What do you need my help with?”

He forced a practiced steeliness into his expression. The cold demeanor was one he reserved for conversations with other members of organized crime hierarchy—allies and enemies alike.

Even as a voice in the back of his head told him Amelia wasn’t one of them, that she was different and special, he pushed the sentimental thoughts away.

“One of my guys was arrested a few days ago. Gabriel Badoni.” Alex’s tone was as cool and composed as it was in any other of his work-related meetings. He’d never wanted to use his mafia persona with Amelia, but a lot had happened that he’d never wanted.

“Yeah?” Kicking at a rock, she leaned on her car. “Okay. Well, I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what he was arrested for?” He was sure she’d noticed his demeanor, but she gave no indication that the change had affected her.

Alex uncrossed his arms and stuffed both hands in the pockets of his slacks. “He was arrested for murdering a Chicago homicide detective.”

Amelia’s foot froze in place midway through shoving aside another rock, and her gaze lifted to meet his. “Who?”

Though initially, Alex thought he saw surprise in her narrow glare, Amelia’s stony expression could easily have been disdain. Somewhere in the ten or so years, he’d lost the ability to read her face.

He clenched one hand into a fist to avoid running his fingers through his hair. Another nervous tic he avoided when he was on the job. “The detective’s name is Ian Strausbaugh. On the force for sixteen years, in homicide for twelve.”

“Uh-huh.” Her tone was as flat as a day-old glass of soda. “Well, did he do it?”

When he threw both hands out to his sides, he knew the impassive façade was over. “Of course he didn’t do it, Amelia! Why would I be here if he was guilty?”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. Whatever. What evidence do they have?”

He gave in and raked a hand through his hair. “Ballistics. From what his lawyer told me, the CPD matched the bullet in Strausbaugh’s body to a weapon that Gabriel used in self-defense a few years ago. The thing is, the CPD kept that weapon. Gabriel never got it back, even after the murder charges were thrown out due to self-defense.”

As she drew her brows together, he almost sighed in relief. She was Amelia, after all, not some android that had been programmed to replace her.

She tucked a piece of dark hair behind one ear as she shook her head. “How’d he get the weapon if the CPD had it the whole time? Or how do they think he got the weapon?”

Alex shrugged, hoping to downplay the true stress he felt over this situation. “Gabriel’s lawyer says they’re theorizing that he had someone in the police department steal it back for him.”

“He stole a handgun he’d used to kill a guy in self-defense so he could use it to kill a cop?” Disbelief further creased her brow as her tone turned sarcastic.

“I know!” Alex hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he was finding it hard to downplay his true feelings with Amelia, even if the feelings weren’t for her. He took a moment to rein himself in before continuing. “It doesn’t make any damn sense, but it’s still physical evidence.”

She flashed him an expectant look. “What about an alibi?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Alex searched for the right words to explain the situation without having to say too much. “That’s the thing. He was running one of our…” He paused, glancing around as if he expected to find a spy lurking behind one of the boulders. “One of our gambling matches. It’s all underground. Illegal, you know?”

“Sounds like fun.” She narrowed her eyes. “What did he tell the CPD? And what does his record look like? If he’s got a rap sheet, then it’s going to take an act of God to spring him loose.”

Alex shook his head. “No, no rap sheet. Just a few DUIs. He hasn’t had a license for the last three years, but in Chicago, it’s not too much of a hindrance. He didn’t want to install a breathalyzer in his car for a restricted license, so he just uses rideshares and takes the L.”

“He doesn’t drive? How do the cops think he got to Strausbaugh’s house?” She tapped a finger against her upper arm as her brow furrowed with suspicion. “It doesn’t matter. Do you know how he got to that gambling match?”

“I’m not sure. Either an Uber or the L.”

The intensity of her stare settled on him. “And he was there all night?”

Alex stuffed a hand in his pocket. “Until close to seven. The games ended at five, but he stayed while everyone left, shot the shit with a few of his guys, and took off